


Rivers and Roads

by elletromil



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Canonical Character Death, Implied Relationships, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-12
Updated: 2015-01-12
Packaged: 2018-03-07 06:00:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3163934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elletromil/pseuds/elletromil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bilbo was quite renowned for his tales, and yet his true gift was for singing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rivers and Roads

**Author's Note:**

> So this little fic has been running around in my head for a few weeks already since I've heard The Head and The Heart song's "Rivers and Road" and could not help but think of it in Thilbo terms.  
> The relationship here is all implied and it's really more Frodo point of view than anything, still I'm as happy with the result as I can be. It's not much, but after the absence of closure from the movies I needed something more so here it is!

However queer he had been branded for running after Dwarves on an adventure, everyone in the Shire agreed that Bilbo Baggins told the best stories. They might not have been about the proper way of life, but even the older Hobbits admitted to have been caught at least once by his words.

Yes, Bilbo was quite renowned for his tales, and yet his true gift was for singing.

He had always had a good voice, but after returning from his adventure, people forgot for he never sung again at the various parties and gatherings.

For a long time, Hamfast Gamgee was the only one who would hear him sing the few afternoons he was tending to the garden and Bilbo forgot his presence. He never mentioned it, even if the songs were beautiful and moving, because he knew that he was intruding on a private moment. However, he often wondered what happened to the Hobbit during that fateful year he was away for him to come back in such pain.

_A year from now we'll all be gone_  
 _All our friends will move away_  
 _And they're goin' to better places_  
 _But our friends will be gone away_

~

The first time Frodo had heard Bilbo singing was not long after he had gone to live with him. Bilbo had brought him on a little camping trip to try and cheer him up, as long as Samwise and his cousins Merry and Pippin. When the night had fallen and they had been around their campfire, the young Hobbit had been quite surprised when Bilbo had started singing because he had assumed that he had no talent for it, but already at the first word he knew he could not have been more wrong.

The four young Hobbits had been quite enraptured and had swore later on that it had been as if they had been put under a spell for there had been no one to accompany Bilbo with an instrument, be it a harp or even fiddles. Yet every time the fancy took Bilbo on subsequent trips, it always seemed as if music drifted in the evening air, summoned by his voice.

 

After that one trip, his Uncle started singing a bit more often when they were alone in Bag End.

Most of his songs were a bit sad, but he didn’t mind because after one, Bilbo would cheer up, as if he simply couldn’t have kept his emotions bottled up any longer and had only needed to let them out before getting on with his day.

There were some occasions however, when after a song he would only lock himself in his study and Frodo thought he could hear quiet sobbing. The first times, he had been worried; but after a while he had come to accept it and know when to expect it.

At first, he thought it was when he would receive any letter, but it soon became obvious that only a small number of them caused this reaction. He pondered for some years on whose letters it was that made Bilbo so sorrowful, because he would never dare going through his private mail, until one day they received the visit of a Dwarf. For the duration of their guest’s visit, Bilbo seemed to be overjoyed and for once his songs were full of merriment and mixed well with the Dwarf’s clarinet. But a few hours after he left, Bilbo started singing the song he had come to recognize as announcing his flight in his study.

Frodo wondered how he never realised before that the song was about Bilbo missing his family and friends. 

_Nothin' is as it has been_  
 _And I miss your face like hell_  
 _And I guess it's just as well_  
 _But I miss your face like hell_

~

Frodo spent the night before their departure from Rivendell in Bilbo’s company as well as the Dwarves of Erebor. They had a refreshing attitude in this dark hour, even though he doubted Elrond would appreciate their treatment of his furniture.

He was pleased to finally meet Gloin, even if he barely got to speak to him before Bilbo bid them goodnight.

They were both seated side by side, watching the older Hobbit retreating back when Frodo finally said what had been on his mind for quite some years already.

“You know, I always thought he would leave one day and go live in the Lonely Mountain.”

Gloin made a little scoffing sound before replying. “I never did.”

He let out a humourless chuckle when the young Hobbit turned to him, surprise etched on his features. For a moment he stayed silent, leaving Frodo wondering if he would elaborate, but after heaving a sigh as if to brace himself, the Dwarf carried on. “Had we not lost Fili and Kili, I am sure they would have convinced him to stay and together, they would have managed to carve a place for themselves in the Mountain. They would have helped him grieve and if I don’t think he could ever get over him, I do believe he would not have this open wound still. But they fell with Thorin.”

He paused then, an old sadness in his eyes that Frodo understood well, that made him wish for his parents embrace one last time. He hesitantly reached for the Dwarf’s shoulder, patting it in sympathy and Gloin smiled tightly in response.

“You have to understand,” he continued without prompting, “Erebor is more than our people’s legacy, it’s our home. To us, it will always be worth fighting dragons for and bearing all those lives lost. But to Bilbo... To Bilbo, Erebor was nothing without Thorin.”

They stared at the dying fire in silence for a while before Frodo finally found the courage to ask him what he had never dare ask his Uncle. Not because he feared he had come to the wrong conclusion or because he thought he would not get an answer, but simply because there were some things that needed stay private.

“Did... Did Thorin knew?”

Gloin answered without hesitation, not demanding any precisions, confirming what had been so obvious to Frodo in his Uncle’s stories. “Yes. Yes, for a while they were as content as they could have been, considering everything.”

The old Dwarf smiled with something indescribable, nor sad, nor happy, but something nonetheless.

_Been talkin' 'bout the way things change_  
 _And my family lives in different lands_  
 _If you don't know what to make of this_  
 _Then we will not relate_  
 _So if you don't know what to make of this_  
 _Then we will not relate_

~

They were on the boat to the Undying Lands on what would be their last night of travel, elbows leaning on the railing, when Bilbo started singing the familiar song.

And finally, after all those years, Frodo could put a word on the emotion that always made Bilbo’s voice quivered. For a long time he had thought it a mix of deep anger and profound sadness, but that explanation had never truly satisfied him.

It was only now that this emotion was missing from the song, replaced by a peacefulness that Frodo would have thought impossible were he not hearing it himself, that he realised it was yearning.

It was no wonder he had not understood before. Before, he could not understand what it was to come back to your home and find it changed irremediably, its comfort ripped from you and the few people who could have made it bearable passed beyond your reach.

It was the reason he was now traveling, unable to stand any more nightmares in the queer atmosphere of his own home.

Yet, as he watched Bilbo lost in his song with such serenity, he could only feel hope. Hope that he too would find his peace and that better days were only waiting for him. 

And looking at his Uncle now, he could not stop the smile spreading on his lips, the first in what seemed an eternity. Bilbo might still be weathered by his long years, but for once, Frodo could see him as he must have been when adventuring with his Dwarves. Oh he had long tried imagining it, but could never quite picture it. But tonight, tonight he could see the young Bilbo Baggins. He would have been a simple Hobbit yes, but a Hobbit willing to do what was right for the sake of others as Frodo himself had been, amazed at the world like Samwise was of the Elves, curious and awkward like Pippin had not been since returning to the Shire, fierce and protective like Merry would always be to everyone he held dear. A Hobbit simply caring for the sake of caring, because that was what they did best.

He could only hope that every one of his Dwarves had known how fortunate they had been to travel alongside him.

_Rivers and roads_  
 _Rivers and roads_  
 _Rivers 'til I reach you_

The song ended and with it the illusion of harps, fiddles, clarinets, drums and viols.

Bilbo turned to him with a small smile; his eyes filled with affection. He gently kissed his forehead before wishing him sweet dreams and he was gone before Frodo could swallow around the sudden tightness in his throat.

~

Frodo was not surprised the next morning when an Elf came to tell him Bilbo had passed away in his sleep sometime during the night.

It wasn’t that he had expected it, not really, but as he watched the Undying Lands coming closer and closer, he realised for the first time that he had never been able to picture Bilbo alongside him once they reached the shore.

It was only when he felt a comforting arm lend around his shoulders that he became conscious of the silent tears that had been slowly rolling down his cheeks. Surprised he might not have been, he still could not help mourning. He smiled rather poorly at Gandalf and, noticing his own tears, could only wonder about all those friends who came before Bilbo that he had lost, about how many times the Wizard had cried for dear ones fallen in battle or simply going to sleep never to wake again.

They stayed together in silence, each other presence enough to be consoling.

“Do you... Do you think he reached them?” Frodo inquired quietly after a moment, voice wrecked with emotions.

Gandalf smiled at this and there was only conviction in his voice when he answered. “Yes, Frodo, I do believe he finally did.”

**Author's Note:**

> Maybe some of you noticed I tweeked the lyrics a bit... Instead of "And my family lives in different lands" the originals lyrics are "And my family lives in a different state" but I didn't want to break the feeling of this piece with a foreign concept for Middle-earth.  
> Anyway, I hope you liked it and as always don't hesitate to tell me if you spot a mistake!


End file.
